ya buy your ticket ya take your chances in Adjunct to 8/9/2013 flash friday; a trinity of flashs

Although I am not completely sure what “My Generation” means, I’m going to use it here in a few sentences with confidence. If I think about it too hard it sounds like Borg assimilation or new cars rolling off the assembly line. So I think ten years one way or the other (which, in theory is a twenty year gap, hell I was twenty when I had my first kid, we are not the same generation, though, I meant ten years one way or the other individually not collectively; you have to pick a decade and go with it).

My generation has an opinion on technology; technophiles or technophobes. The next generation up is either baffled or uses the stuff to engage the mind. But my peers seem to make the choice to embrace or shun. Tought row to hoe these days being a technophobe and my bias is such that I don’t understand the technophobe.

To take a bit of the mystery out of my cryptic stuff of the last few years, the woman who has my heart is a a luddite, and that’s half the reason for the cipher, the other half is that she is very private. In general I give a wide berth for such opinions and choices, I find them reasonable. In the miniature specific, I find it endearing, charming, adorable. But that’s the long and short of it, oh, yeah, and I’m smitten.

Smitten can be used as a positive thing the way “You slay me” can be, the past tense not so much. “You have slain me” and “I done got smote” just don’t have a silver lining. It’ll pose problems in the kids get a hold of it and recycle certain vernacular phrases, e.g. Get your Smote on or That’s How I smite or even She’s Smotein’ Hot.

Things happen slowly around here, part of that is me. This area has changed a lot as have I, the one doesn’t mitigate the other though it’s a bit confusing in my head it’s blatant outside my head. My ex, no, not that one, the other, had an email sign off that was a twain quote — Outside of a dog a book is mans best friend, inside a dog it’s hard to read. Like a funny answering machine message it’s funny the first few times and then gets tedious.

I’m still having trouble thinking of a flash and other things. Horror is kind of limited. There is a lot of horror fiction that relys on a generalized fear of monsters, unnatural things, things that look human but aren’t. In my mind, for instance, the scariest thing about a werewolf is not the wolf part. The more interesting type of horror is internal, personal horror’s, things that objectively might not be frightening, but scares the pants off the protagonist or narrative voice. I like my narrators pantless. When I think this hard about process it means I got nothing, great steaming piles of nothing.

Treat one another with a deep and abiding passion; I’m spent.